


Hollowed

by AnnaNocturnal



Series: Requests and Challenges [21]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha Jensen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dehumanization, Genocide, Knotting, M/M, Mass Murder, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Omega Jared, Post Mpreg, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Prostitution, Self-Lubrication, Starvation, Supernatural Kink Meme, Torture, heat - Freeform, hurt without comfort, knotting without claiming, mating without claiming, non-con/rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaNocturnal/pseuds/AnnaNocturnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omegas are second-class citizens, a fact that Jared is used to. But he has a good family, and generally his life isn’t too bad. Until his favorite actor, Jensen Ackles, comes to town. Jared is precariously close to his heat, but he’s got a few days and he’ll be damned if he’s going to pass up the chance to meet his idol. When his heat hits early, the two spend a heated few days together. Jared is heartbroken when he never hears from the Alpha again, and to make matters worse, he’s pregnant. His family disowns him and drops him in an omega work camp. Six years later, Jensen is filming a documentary. He spots a starved omega and child and coaxes/bribes him to tell his story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompter** :  
>  **Community** : None ([original source](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/88360.html?thread=34392616#t34392616): )  
>  **Prompt** : [LINK](http://girlgotagun.livejournal.com/26258.html?thread=75410#t75410)  
>  **Rating** : NC-17
> 
>  **Kinks** : a/b/o, heat, knotting, rough sex, angst, dehumanization/degradation, humiliation, hurt w/o comfort, torture, non-con/dub-con _(not main pairing)_ , abuse, mpreg, mating w/o claiming, abandonment
> 
>  **Warning** : Character death, sexual abuse of both adults and minors (minors implied; non-explicit), physical and mental abuse of both adults and minors, starvation, extreme suffering by both adults and minors... Guys I am so serious when I say this: I am going to rip your heart out with this one, and I'm going to do it with a smile on my face. Proceed with caution.

_**January 28, 2015** _

The camera shook, the image on the monitor jumping as the lens came around to rest on a small boy. His eyes were dark, appearing way too large as they peered out of sunken sockets. The pup’s face was gaunt, all sharp angles; much too sharp for his age, when growing bones should be hidden by a soft layer of fat. His hair was brittle, the color of rust—scurvy, the cameraman had whispered to Jensen. The same effect of starvation and malnutrition was the reason for his receding, bright red gums, pulling away from rotting baby teeth. The paper-like skin and jaundiced sclera were likewise signs of the reaper hovering over his shoulder. 

The boy was curled in on himself in his chair, thin arms wrapped around legs that looked like they couldn't possibly support his weight. 

Jensen’s voice floated through the speakers attached to the monitor. “Can you tell us your name and age?” 

The boy sat up just a little, lifting his head off of his knees. When he spoke his voice was surprisingly clear, the youth-high voice melodic. It reminded him of his own daughter, and watching it now stabbed through his heart. 

“My name is Andrew.” The pup held his right hand up, fingers like spider’s legs extended. “I'm five years old.” 

The footage cut with a hiss of feedback. Now, instead of the pup, an omega in his mid-twenties was sitting in the chair. His eyes were hard, distrusting, and his gaze kept darting off-screen to where Jensen knew Andrew was playing with Eric. Jensen knew the omega was tall—alarmingly so, for his status—at six-foot-four, but he probably weighed a buck twenty soaking wet. 

Those hate-filled hazel eyes flitted back to the camera as Jensen’s voice filtered through from off-camera. “How did you end up here?” 

The omega scowled. “How did I end up here?” His lips twisted into a sneer. “Everyone knows you're not supposed to breed the bitch.” 

Feedback and then the image was crisp, clear. A smiling anchorwoman read off the day’s news—not that day’s. The footage was a recording from 1995. Jensen had been ten years old when it first aired. He didn't remember it; it didn't apply to him. 

“The proposed Omega Suppression Act was officially signed into law today amidst widespread debate. The law states that omegas are no longer permitted to carry young. If an omega is found to be pregnant, they will be removed from their pack and remanded into the custody of the government for their safety and the safety of their pups. This follows close on the heels of the Alpha Custodial Act last week which grants exclusive parental rights to an Alpha in the case of breeding an omega. For more on the new legislature, we go to Councilman Heyerdahl.” 

The screen flashed and a thin, middle-aged beta began to speak. “The omega threat has weakened our society, rotted it from the inside out for far too long. Only omegas produce offspring who present as omegas; an Alpha and a beta or exclusively beta couples do not carry the omega gene. By limiting reproduction we will eventually eliminate the threat that omegas pose to our society.” 

“Councilman, what do you have to say to those who would critique this change in policy by calling it alarmingly reminiscent of historical incidents of genocide?” 

The Councilman smiled, thin lips twisting up and eyes sparkling charmingly. “I would encourage such pack to refrain from fear mongering. We are not shipping omegas off to death camps or handing down executions. Presented omegas and their offspring will still enjoy the same rights any other pack status. We are simply reducing the drain of weaker statuses on our country’s socioeconomic infrastructure. If the law is followed, as we as pack expect from any other status in regards to any other law, there is nothing to fear.” 

The screen jumped. Feedback hissed. The omega was on the screen once more, wasted body silhouetted against the high afternoon sun. The camera zoomed in on his face; sharp bones and cracked lips and the anger in his eyes the only sign of life the walking corpse had to offer. 

“They're killing us.” He swallowed. “We're dead.” 

Chad stopped the video. "So that's the rough opening." He let out a low sigh. "Breaks your heart, right?" 

Jensen shrugged. "I feel for the pup." 

Chad frowned. “Why did they pick _you_ for this again?” The beta made it no secret that he thought Jensen was ill-suited for the job. 

“Marketability.” Jensen smiled at him. Once upon a time, Jensen had been a pretty widely-known actor. He had been the lead on a show called _Supernatural_ , but when the show went belly-up, so did his career. 

“Then just stand there and look pretty and keep your mouth shut.” 

Jensen could smell the aggression rolling off of the beta and he raised his hands in a sort of surrender. Besides, he could get why Chad was irritated. Jensen wasn’t exactly sympathetic to the project, and Chad had put his entire career—and probably his life—on the line for it. He had applied for permits to film in the camp under the guise of a propaganda film in which omegas talked about their various misdeeds as a warning to all still-liberated omegas to stay in line. But he was actually making a documentary on the horrors of the camps, the inhumane conditions and unbelievable abuse that went on there. 

Privately, Jensen thought that the first one was more appropriate. 

“Whatever, man, I’ve gotta get the dummy footage pieced before inspection tomorrow.” Chad sounded frustrated. He was effectively having to make two documentaries while they were there; the real one, and one that he would show to their handlers if asked, one that matched the purpose on the permits. 

Jensen’s eyes lingered on the frozen image of the omega for a moment before he turned his back and walked away. He didn’t feel much sympathy. The omega could be pissed, sure, but he was right. _Everyone_ knew that bitches weren’t supposed to breed. His own actions had gotten him put there. 

He wondered about the Alpha, though. Why hadn’t the omega told his Alpha about the pup? By law, Alphas had default guardianship of any pups they father, so his Alpha could have saved the pup from the horrors of the camp. 

He exhaled hard, disgust trying to tease a growl from his throat. The bitch probably didn’t even know who his pup’s Alpha was. 

** ~~~ **

_**January 15, 2015**_

It was late at night, and Jared curled his body closer around Andrew’s, offering what little protection he could from the chill of the night air as he drew the blanket they shared up to his chin, completely covering the pup. The blanket was scratchy wool; it had probably been warm at some point. Now it was thin, threadbare, existing mainly to provide the illusion of warmth rather than actual warmth. The barracks weren't heated, and the overcrowded room was stuffy despite the lack of heat. The rank smell of unwashed bodies hung thick in the air, but opening the windows was to risk hypothermia, particularly in the pups. 

There weren’t many pups in the camp. The law stated that an Alpha who bred an omega could claim custody of the pup. Many of the omegas who came in each day were carrying, and Jared had heard many of them on the phone, closely monitored by a guard, begging their Alpha to please, please claim the pup. It wrenched his heart. He had been like them once, but he had been pleading with voicemail, leaving messages that would never be answered. 

Andrew had turned five two months ago. Five long years stuck in the camp. Five years that were both a miracle and a punishment. Most pups didn’t make it to five. Hell, most pups didn’t make it to three. Jared had fought tooth and nail to keep Andrew alive, but sometimes he wondered if that wasn’t more cruel. 

They hadn’t celebrated his birthday. What was there to celebrate? Another year of suffering, of starvation, of cruelty and humiliation. A year of pain and agony and the acrid smell of rot and decay. No, they didn’t celebrate birthdays in the camp. 

A lot of other anniversaries had come and gone in the five and a half years since Jared had arrived at the camp. One was coming up, in fact. He did the math in his head. Nineteen days until the anniversary of the day that he had met the Alpha who bred him. Twenty-one until the date that marked the Alpha blowing him off. Twenty-two until the date that he took the after-knot pill and moved on. Seventy-two until the date that he realized he was carrying. One hundred and forty-eight until his twenty-sixth birthday. One hundred and forty-nine until his own anniversary at the camp. Three hundred and five until Andrew’s next birthday. 

If Jared had his way, he would never see another one of those dates. But he had Andrew. And as long as the pup drew breath, Jared would fight like hell to stay with him. 

The pup drew a shaky breath, let out a low cry. Jared shushed him and tried to pull him tighter in, tried to will his body to give off just a little more heat. 

His mind turned to the next anniversary. 

** ~~~ **

_**February 3, 2009**_

It was nine o’clock on a Tuesday, and Jared was running late for his first class. Tuesdays and Thursdays were his heavy-scheduled days, with lectures from ten all the way to five. But he was lucky, he knew. Not many omegas got to go to college. So he would work his ass off if that was what it took to get to go. 

His phone started ringing as he yanked his shirt over his head and he stumbled, nearly falling over in his attempt to answer it before his arms were fully through the sleeves. “Hello.” 

“Hey man, so listen, I was walking down the street minding my own, you know, and I saw this bus—” 

“Milo.” Jared sighed. He loved his friend, he really did, but the other omega would talk forever and a day if left to his own devices, and Jared was running late as it was. 

“The one and only.” Milo didn’t wait for Jared to speak again before he continued. “So as I was saying, headed to stats, minding my own, and I saw this bus. And so I thought to myself, I thought Milo, it seems like there might be an interesting story to go with that bus.” 

“Did you?” Jared’s voice was flat, resigned to his friend finishing the story as he hit the speaker button and set the phone down, gathering his stuff. 

“I did. So I watched this bus; not enough interest to actually try to follow it or anything, but it turned into the gas station on Bleaker. And who do you think got out of it?” 

Jared rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Milo. Look, I’ve gotta—” 

“That one guy you’re oh so in love with. The Alpha with the dreamy eyes and the pouty lips and the oh-so-sexy bowlegs.” Milo’s voice was teasing. “The one from that god-awful show you love.” 

Jared’s heart stopped, his eyes going wide as he stared at the phone. “Milo…” He worked to keep his voice calm. “Milo, are you talking about Jensen Ackles?” 

“Man, I don’t know.” 

“Dean from _Supernatural_?” 

“Well I don’t know Dean from Sam but the whole motley crew was present and accounted for so—” 

Jared had already hung up. His head was spinning. He felt like he was going to scream. Jensen Ackles was in his hometown. Jensen Ackles, who he had been completely in love with since he had even a vague concept of what the word meant. Jensen Ackles, the Alpha who fueled ever heat-fevered fantasy he had ever had. 

He was going to die. He was going to hyperventilate. He was going to stop breathing altogether. 

He _had_ to meet him. He had to find him and… And what? What would he even say to a man like that? “Hi, I’m Jared Padalecki and I know that basically means nothing and I’m just an omega and it’s laughable that I’d even dare to talk to you but I’m basically in love with you”? No. Not in a million years. 

But…he couldn’t just _not_ try to meet him either. 

He went to his computer, pulled up the fansite that he frequented. The site listed all of the filming location information, and if he was going to try to figure out how to catch up to the bus, he’d need to know where they were going. No way they’d still be on Bleaker by the time he got there. 

He found it, and he had no idea how he could’ve missed it. The town that they were filming in for the next week was only forty minutes away. He ran through it in his head as he gathered up his school bag and his phone and car keys before thundering down the stairs. 

He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, tried to look calm as he spotted his mother by the sink. “Hey Mom. Just wanted to let you know that Milo and I have a project due this week so I’m probably just gonna stay over at his place between classes until we get it done.” The words came out too fast, and he was sure his mom would see right through them. 

She was distracted though, scrubbing hard at an especially stubborn spot on a pan. “Okay, honey. Be careful.” 

Jared had almost made it out of the door when he heard her running after him. 

“Jared!” Her voice was panicked. “I almost forgot. Your heat’s about to hit, maybe you should...” 

The reminder hit Jared hard in the gut. His heat. His freakin’ heat was due to start that day. It was, he knew, the absolute worst time to travel or do anything that may throw his hormones out of whack. 

But…there were still a few days before it hit completely, and he may never have another chance to meet his favorite actor. And if his heat hit, he could come back, ride it out. It took a day or two before it got _too_ intense, and he was only going to be forty minutes away. 

It would be okay. 

He hugged his mom and assured her he’d be back before his heat was due. Then he was out the door and hurrying to his car, his mind running through the directions in his memory to the filming location. 

** ~~~ **

Jensen was stressed beyond belief by the time Steve called it a wrap for the day. _Supernatural_ wasn’t doing well, and after five years they were shooting the series finale. Jensen had loved the show, loved the cast. Well, most of the cast. Because the kid who played his little brother was…well, he and Jensen had never gotten along. And apparently that had translated to film, because the lack of audience reception to their dynamic and especially to the kid in particular was cited as one of the biggest reasons for pulling the plug. 

They should’ve cast someone else. 

Jensen was beginning to hate the kid. He sort of wished the whole storyline was real and that he could hurtle him down into the cage himself. His co-star was an omega, and in Jensen’s mind that should’ve been a huge red flag from the beginning that he was going to be a problem. But no, it had been decided in casting that an omega playing the little brother role would play nicely to the dynamic between Sam and Dean, what with Jensen being an Alpha. Instead, the kid was single-handedly destroying Jensen’s career. It was hard to bounce back from a flop like this as an actor. A failed show was a huge hit to his resume. 

He headed for his trailer, dodging any attempts by the rest of the cast to talk to him, to get him to go out with them for drinks. He rounded the corner of his trailer, his mind still on the mess of his career and the show, and nearly ran smack into someone. He opened his mouth to speak, to bite off a cutting remark at whoever had the misfortune to cross his path, but as he drew in a breath to fuel the words he smelled something that was unlike anything he had ever encountered in his life. Sweet and earthy and warm. It kicked up something in the back of his mind that immediately started screaming at him to touch, to take, to claim. 

He looked at the man, at the symbol on the shoulder of his tee shirt. He was an omega. 

Jensen breathed in deeply again, scenting him as he stepped closer. 

“I’m sorry, Jen—Mr. Ackles. I’m a huge fan and when I heard you were filming so nearby I just had to meet you.” The omega blushed, the blood rush making his scent peak. 

Jensen gritted his teeth as his own body started to respond the unfamiliar scent and he realized what it was. The omega was in heat. He had heard about the appeal of the sickly-sweet scent from other Alphas and thought that they must be exaggerating, but if anything they had been way underselling it. But he probably should’ve figured as much. After all, omegas had to be good for _something_. 

He realized that he hadn’t said anything, and the omega was starting to fidget nervously. He tried to clear his head. Instinct or no, he couldn’t just go all feral on a fan. 

“Jared, you said?” It was hard to force the words out in his normal voice, hard not to growl them. “Good to meet you kid, but you really shouldn’t be back here.” He was using every last trick he knew as an actor to appear unaffected, but he was losing that battle. He could feel his heart thundering ahead of him, his breathing getting faster, more shallow, and his scent growing heavier. 

The omega noticed all of this, too. A small smile appeared as he took another step closer. “Do you want me to go?” There was a worshipful look in his eyes that Jensen didn’t think had anything to do with the heat. He had seen it before in the eyes of other fans; fans who sought him out hoping for one thing and one thing only. 

Jensen reached behind him and opened the door to his trailer, jerking his head at the omega. “Get inside.” The command was a low, smooth growl.


	2. Part Two

_**January 27, 2015** _

Jensen stared out the window of the van as he and the crew drew near the camp. The perimeter was marked off by high walls of solid concrete. Not cinderblock; these walls had been poured around twenty-foot-high steel spikes, the ends protruding at the top and then wrapped and tied together by three rows of razor wire. The purpose of the poured walls was clear: no gaps, no hand or foot holds. Nothing goes over or through. 

The van came to a stop before the main entrance. The entrance consisted of two tall metal doors, spanning the entire height of the wall and sealing up a full twenty-foot gap in the concrete. The riveted steel was nearly a foot thick, and they were secured by both an electronic locking system and a manual bolt that took three Alphas to move in and out of place. Two towers rose over the wall, mounted guns on the sides and trained both on the outside perimeter and down into the camp. The two in Jensen’s field of vision made up just a fraction of the total number of towers in and around the forty acre compound. 

The doors were marked with institutional lettering, _**IL**_ spanning the width and height of the left door, and _**01**_ on the right. Illinois 01 (colloquially referred to as “ill-one”) was the first established omega work camp in the United States. Its walls went up in 1994, the entire compound opening for residence by the time the Omega Suppression Act went into effect the following year. For twenty years the camp had been serving as an alternative home for omegas who refused to fall in line and act for the good of pack. In the camp, they were employed with largely menial tasks. 

Jensen had a mug in his kitchen cabinet at home, the ceramic glaze stamped on the bottom with _Made in IL-01 – 5062438_. The second number referred to the omega credited with the item’s production. 

There were three camps in Illinois alone; IL-01, IL-17, and IL-23. It was the prime state. Three camps, all prime numbers. It was a dark joke, but you said it and everyone knew what you were talking about. 

There were sixty-two camps all told, from IL-01 to HI-62. Their names and omega numbers were stamped across just about every domestic good available on the market. Of the liberated omega population, 8% were employed tax-paying contributors to the economy. The camps boasted a 99% employment rate every year since they had been established two decades earlier, as well as providing jobs to Alphas and betas as guards and administration. 

As far as Jensen could tell, it was a perfect solution. 

Chad had differing opinions. 

When you got Chad riled up, he could go on about the problems with the camps and what he called the “propaganda perpetuating the systematic genocide of pack” for hours. “Liberated omegas have a low rate of employment because no one will hire them. Alphas and betas are captains of industry, but omegas are rarely ever even allowed to go to college. So when they enter the workforce, it’s at the mercy of the more powerful statuses. But then they get denied jobs because four weeks out of the year they can’t work. And then, before the Act, if they were mated then when their heat hit they were bred, and they could physically work while they were carrying but most Alphas get crazy-protective over their pups so they’d have to leave their jobs and stay home until they whelped. So then it’s about three months before their bodies are healed enough and their instincts calmed enough to go back to work _if_ their Alphas let them, and by that time it’s about time for their heat to hit again. They’re stuck in this crazy cycle and then they’re blamed for being a drain on the economy and instead of just owning up and taking care of their own, the Alphas and betas running the country decide to exterminate them? Nah, man. Not kosher.” 

Chad was a conspiracy theory whack-job. Controlled breeding wasn’t the same thing as extermination. Dying wasn’t the same thing as never being born. 

When Jensen had voiced that opinion, Chad’s eyes had gone dark. “Not what I’m talking about man. Listen, omegas make up about ten percent of the US population. That’s about thirty-two million pack members. Since 1995, over twenty million have been registered as occupants of camps. Now, the camps don’t release their occupancy numbers for any single moment, but if you look at everything else you can figure out what it should be. Birth and mortality rates for all statuses in the liberated population have remained pretty constant since the Act, because Alphas are still breeding omegas left and right except instead of living as traditional pack the omega is shipped off and once they whelp the Alpha takes the pup. But the pup’s still got a ten percent chance of presenting as omega and that means that any given pup born to an omega has nearly a seven percent chance of ending up in a camp later in life, and that number jumps to around sixty-five percent once they’re confirmed as an omega themselves. So the figure stands; at any given time there should be about twenty million omegas in camps if they’re living natural lifespans, just in the custody of the government. Well, according to last year’s census, the workforce is comprised of nearly two hundred million alphas, over one hundred and fifty betas, and there are a total of three hundred fifty-two million pack members registered as employed in the country. That means that there are two million or so employed omegas in the country, including liberated pack and camp occupants.” 

Jensen’s head was swimming with the numbers, trying to keep up. “So what’s your point?” 

“My point?” Chad shook his head. “Man, ninety-nine percent of omegas in camps are supposed to be working; that’s the point of the camps, to make them active contributors to the economy that they’re a part of. So if there should be nearly twenty million working at any time, why do omegas only account for two million in the census? Fact is, something’s fishy here. Either the government is fudging the employment numbers, in which case what’s the point of the camps, or…” Chad frowned. “Or where did the other eighteen million omegas go? Why are there only two million of them scattered through sixty-two work camps?” 

What Chad had said didn’t make a lot of sense to Jensen. He couldn’t follow the numbers, and he wasn’t one to jump on board with an explanation that he couldn’t understand. For all he knew the beta could be bullshitting him. Actually, Chad probably _was_ bullshitting him. No way something like that could be going on right there in the US on such a massive scale without anyone knowing or doing anything about it. 

Jensen pulled himself out of his thoughts as the heavy steel doors began to swing in and the van pulled through. Chad was digging through his bag, finding their permits and documentation before thrusting them up to the driver as an Alpha guard with a fully-automatic machine gun slung over his shoulder motioned to where they should park. Jensen furrowed his brow. Why would an Alpha need a machine gun to guard an omega camp? Their scents were just as effective at keeping an omega under control. The only thing a weapon could do that scent couldn’t was… 

He pushed the thought from his mind. There was just no way. It was because they were government-employed; military. Besides, the guard was in the outer wall. The gun could just as easily be meant to protect the camp from outside threats as from threats within. In fact, now that he thought of it, that was probably a way more likely explanation. 

Still, he could remember Chad’s warning before they left that morning as he and Eric addressed the group. The beta’s face had been grave, his tone more serious than Jensen had ever heard it. “We’re going to be in a lot of danger there. Stay aware of what’s going on around you. Remember, we’re outsiders. We’re going to have to play by their rules to get what we need.” 

Jensen had thought that he had been talking about the omegas. He had even laughed a little at the suggestion that an omega could be a threat to him. Now, as he eyed the weapon on the guard’s shoulder as the Alpha came to the window to take their permits, he wasn’t so sure. 

The door to the van slid open and Chad climbed out. “Okay guys. Let’s do this.” 

** ~~~ **

_**January 27, 2015**_

Jared held Andrew’s hand as they made their way toward the small school near the factory. While Jared worked, Andrew was supposed to attend classes. The theory was that when the pups in the camp presented, ninety percent of them would be Alpha or beta, and they would be integrated back into larger society, placed with foster packs until they broke off to form packs of their own. Jared was pretty sure it was bullshit; the pups had seen too much, knew too much, had suffered too much to be allowed back out to tell the tale. But he couldn’t prove it. No pup had ever lived long enough to present in the camp. 

Either way, the school was pretty much a joke, like most things in the camp that were meant to signify rehabilitation and normalcy. The betas in charge were under strict order to not instruct any of the pups on reading or writing. Mostly they were taught history and law, with a particular emphasis on the importance of the OSA and the camps. They were taught to be ashamed of their parentage, of their blood, and to fear the day that they would present. 

Jared had taught Andrew to say the alphabet, singing quietly when they were alone. He had taught him to read and sound out small words and sentences on any piece of print he could find. Their meal vouchers, the labels on the harsh, irritating detergent that Gen—another omega who had arrived at the camp shortly after Jared—used in the laundry room. He had taught Andrew to write his name with a twig in the dirt and then had smeared it into nothing before the guards had called lights out. 

He had whispered to the pup to never, _never_ let a guard find out that he could do any of it. It was his and Andrew’s secret. A week later, when Gen stripped down the beds in their barracks to haul the linens to the laundry facilities, thirty-six tiny pieces of paper had fallen out of Andrew’s pillowcase and fluttered to the ground, every one covered in the pup’s messy name. He and Gen had scrambled around, found every piece of paper, and Jared had shoved them into his pocket. For the next four days his heart stayed in his throat in constant terror of them being found by one of the guards until he managed to slip them into the fire at the next burning. Andrew’s name curled up and smoldered into nothing in the rotting inferno. 

But still, it was part of the routine at the camp, part of the trivial things they had to do to fill each day. Jared stopped in front of the school building and crouched down in front of Andrew, his hand coming to the pup’s sunken cheek to keep his attention as he addressed him. “What’s the rule?” 

“No writing an’ no reading.” 

“Counting?” 

“Only to five. Cause I’m five.” 

“The alphabet?” 

“You don’ need it if you can’t read.” 

Jared started to nod, but he was distracted when two omega went rushing by, heads down and scents thick with fear. His stomach dropped. He looked around, saw more omegas darting around the corners of buildings and up the rows of barracks, rushing into the doors of the factory. A moment later a strong, familiar scent hit him, calling up images in his mind that he had tried to bury long ago. 

_No. Not now. Not here. Not after all of this time._

He stood up, instinctively pushing Andrew behind him. He felt the pup cling to the leg of his pants, burying his face against his thigh as he smelled his dad’s fear. Jared’s eyes scanned the open space in the ‘town square’ between the factory, the school, the laundry facilities, and the mess hall. Finally they landed on an Alpha with dark blonde hair, his expression frustrated as an omega high-tailed it away from him. There were three other men with him, though Jared couldn’t scent them from the distance to tell their status. One of them had a camera. 

The blonde Alpha’s head tilted as he scented the air, a look of confusion washing over his face, and then his head turned to look straight at Jared. Jared’s hands tightened on Andrew’s back, pressing the pup harder to him as the Alpha started towards him. 

_Jensen_. 

He hadn’t seen him in nearly six years. What was he doing here now? 

Jared thought of the hundreds of voicemails he must’ve left before and right after Andrew was born, before he finally gave up. Could the Alpha really be here to take Andrew away after all this time? He wanted to tell Andrew to go into the school, to get the pup out of the line of sight. He would fight Jensen tooth and nail if he had to, but in his weakened state he knew that the fight would end in his death, and Andrew didn’t need to see that. But his instincts told him to keep Andrew out of sight. Which was stupid, because even if the Alpha hadn’t already seen the pup, it was pretty damned obvious that Jared was hiding something behind his back. 

“What are you doing here?” The words were harsh and Jared himself was surprised at their effectiveness as the Alpha stopped in his tracks and raised his hands as though to surrender. 

“I just want to talk; ask you some questions.” Jensen’s words were softly-spoken, calm. 

Jared stared at him, eyes narrowed. His eyes flickered momentarily to the man—beta, he decided—with the camera and then back to Jensen. “I have nothing to say to you.” He took a step back, forcing Andrew to stumble back with him. He was trying to get Andrew as close to the building as he could, but the awkward movement only served to draw Jensen’s attention. 

Jensen looked surprised to see the pup peeking out from behind Jared. Jensen seemed to consider the pup for a moment and then he stuck his hand in his pocket and took something out, holding it out to Jared. Jared eyed it distrustfully, unable to see what it was. If they were Alpha guardianship papers, that was it, game over. 

“We’re making a documentary about the camps.” His voice dropped pointedly. “About what really goes on here.” When he spoke again, his voice was a normal volume. “You’d be compensated for your time.” When Jared didn’t answer he looked down at Andrew again. “I don’t think you can really afford to say no.” 

Jared realized what the item in his hand was. Food vouchers. They were given out every month; twenty per person. Each one bought one meal. It was nowhere near enough. There were ways to get more, and Jared had lost his pride regarding them a long time ago. But still, there was never enough. It was all he could do to keep Andrew fed, and from the sunken eyes and cheeks and sparrow’s bones, he wasn’t even doing a good job of that. 

He still hesitated, though, twisting to look down at Andrew. “Just me?” The question was directed at Jensen. 

“Both of you.” 

Jared’s eyes closed, panic arching through him. If it was just him, then if Jensen really wasn’t here for the pup, he would be able to prevent the Alpha from making the connection and deciding to take him. But if Andrew was around too often… The pup smelled like Jensen. No getting around it. And even if Jensen hadn’t realized it yet, Jared knew that was what had drawn the Alpha’s attention to them. 

Jensen waited for his answer, as Jared argued it out in his mind. In the end, nothing was more important that Andrew. Jared reached out and took the vouchers and stuck them in his pocket, nodding. 

“Great. Come with us.” The Alpha jerked his head towards the barracks before turning and walking back to the crew. 

Jared watched him go, panic still eating at his mind. Dimly, he noticed that the years hadn’t changed much about the man. He looked just like he did now, walking away from Jared, as he had all those years ago. 

** ~~~ **

_**February 4, 2009**_

Jared’s back was pressed against the wall of Jensen’s trailer, legs wrapped around the Alpha’s waist as he supported the omega’s weight, thrusting deep inside of him, each hard movement sending sparks of pleasure and _right_ and _perfect_ and _good so fucking good_ through Jared’s body. He had lost track of how many times they had done this in the last twenty-four hours, the progression and intensity of Jared’s heat quickened by the mating. 

He felt the unrivaled pleasure start to course through him again as in a few quick thrusts Jensen worked his growing knot past his abused rim, grinding deep and rubbing against that spot that drove Jared to the edge. He came hard, his throat already hoarse from the number of times he had cried out in pleasure and need as he screamed Jensen’s name, his orgasm wracking his body as the Alpha’s head fell to his shoulder, forehead resting where his teeth would sink in if he claimed Jared. Jensen hadn’t, and something in the back of the omega’s mind screamed in need each time that he didn’t. 

Jensen shuddered as he came, shooting his seed deep in the omega, breath coming in heavy pants as his hips twitched, coaxing out every last drop. 

He stumbled backwards and dropped to the couch, Jared in his lap. “God, baby…” Jensen pressed his lips to Jared’s, groaning when the omega arched into the kiss, his rim pulling at the Alpha’s knot as he moved. “So fucking good.” 

Jared let his mind wander, let himself hope that by the end of his heat Jensen would claim him, would take him as his mate. 

Jared had been an idiot. 

** ~~~ **

_**January 27, 2015**_

Jared returned to the situation at hand, the memories fading as Jensen began to ask him questions. He was seated in a chair in one of the barracks, the light from one of the grungy windows throwing him into sharp silhouette, obscuring his appearance. Like it mattered. 

“What was the worst thing that you ever saw happen here?” The first question was one prepared by someone else, Jared could tell as Jensen read it off of a piece of paper. 

Jared sighed, his mind running through all of the horrors that he had witnessed over the past five and a half years. “That’s sort of like dropping someone into a pile of broken glass and then asking them which piece was the sharpest, you know? But uh…” His mind landed on one night, one that always shoved its way to the forefront of his mind when he sensed panic in the camp, when he could smell that another omega was in trouble. “Probably Gen. The night that Gen first came to the camp.” 

“Who’s Gen?” Jensen’s tone was conversational, as though the question he asked couldn’t possibly be a raw one. As though he were asking whether it rained last Tuesday. 

“Another omega who’s kept here.” They never said that they _lived_ at the camp. Never. “She came here about a month after me. She was thirteen and she had just presented.” 

“Was she carrying?” 

“No.” At first Jared was surprised by the question. But then, he thought, before he had come here he had thought that was how most omegas ended up behind the wall. “No. She uh…her pack said that she must have been giving it away to an Alpha because she presented so early. So they said they couldn’t handle her. Said she’d end up knotted and bred if the government didn’t step in. Preventative action.” The last two words were ground out sarcastically. It was bullshit, the idea that the simple proximity of an Alpha could cause an omega to present early, or that it meant that an omega was especially promiscuous. If that were the case…hell, omega presentation only resulted from an Alpha and omega parentage. If that were the case, all omegas would hit their first heat early just from being around their own Alpha. 

“So what happened that night?” 

Jared took a deep breath as he considered the question. How to start, how to phrase it. Gen was his friend, just about the only person who had bothered to be there for him, as much as any of them _could_ be there for each other in the camp. “Well you know, omegas present with our first heat. So she was climbing the walls, screaming, crying. It hurts, you know, and the first time is…it’s terrifying. I can’t imagine it that young. And the smell was…” Jared shook his head. “You could smell it for about fifty yards. We kept the windows and doors shut, no one in or out. We tried to get her through it, tried to calm her down, bring her out of the fever as much as we could. But…eventually the guards scented her. Five of them came in. They took turns, and her body wasn’t ready for it; she was too young. They tore her up, left her this terrible bloody mess. I thought they had killed her.” He paused and swallowed hard, thinking of that night, of the long pain-filled days the sweet omega had suffered through following it. “Probably would’ve been better if they had.” 

“They bred her?” 

Jared nodded. “The pup died before it was born.” He could remember the screams, the grief-filled sobs, and the guilt-wracked profession of relief that followed. Because if the pup had been born, any of the guards could have taken it, legally claimed it. And the only thing worse than being bred by your rapist was watching him walk away with your pup. “That’s what usually happens.” 

“Is that what happened to you?” Jensen asked, his eyes flickering to where Andrew was playing with Eric. The producer had brought a pack of cards and was teaching the pup Go Fish out of sound range of the camera. 

Jared laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but the question was so ridiculous. How could Jensen seriously not remember him? How could he not recognize his own pup’s scent? 

Jensen looked confused and a little disturbed at his reaction. Well, Jared couldn’t blame him for that. But he wasn’t about to explain it, so he went on with answering the question. 

“No.” He shook his head, looking again at Andrew. “When I came to the camp, I was five months along, so by the time my health really started to fail, Andrew was viable. Usually in those cases, the omega dies.” 

“But you both lived. That’s lucky.” Jensen had the look of a person in an uncomfortable situation, trying desperately to find the right thing to say even as he realized just how far out of his depth he was. 

“It’s a curse. His Alpha wouldn’t take him.” Jared’s eyes were hard as he stared the Alpha in the eye, frankly not giving a shit if he took offense or not. What was the Alpha going to do? Beat him? Put him in a scent fog? Been there, done that, endured worse. And it was all his fucking fault, anyway. “We’d’ve both been better off... This is no way for a pup to grow up.” 

“Why won’t his Alpha claim him?” Jensen seemed genuinely confused. 

“I don’t know, Jensen. Can you think of any reason an Alpha wouldn’t claim his son?” Jared scoffed. “Probably because he’s a cowardly, arrogant son of a bitch who’d be ashamed for anyone to find out he bred a bitch.” Jared tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “What do you think, as an Alpha? Think that sounds right?” 

Jensen glared at him and a tiny thrill of fear ran through Jared’s hindbrain. But the years of anger, of suffering that had festered in him quieted it, and he managed to maintain eye contact for a full minute before lowering his gaze, the Alpha’s scent overpowering him. 

“I don’t know.” His voice was quiet now. “I tried to call him so many times, begging him to claim him. But I guess he thought I was lying or…it was only ever him, you know?” Jared shifted in his chair. “My first time… I mean, I get that it wasn’t as important to him but you’d think he’d’ve known… All he’d have to do is scent him.” Jared sighed, trying to gather himself. “So what am I supposed to think? He just doesn’t care, I guess.”


	3. Part Three

_**February 5, 2009** _

Jared’s heat began to ebb late in the day, and he and Jensen finally fell asleep. They had drifted occasionally the day before and that morning and afternoon, tied together in a tangle of limbs and sweat, the smell of heat and sex heavy in the small space. But it hadn’t been for more than an hour at the time before they woke back up, driven by the fever and desire as Jensen pushed roughly into Jared, fucking him hard against any surface he could as words spilled from his lips, sometimes sweet, sometimes filthy. 

And Jared got it—he understood why omegas used to stay bred constantly before the OSA was put into place. He had never experienced anything more complete and right in his life than Jensen’s weight on top of him, his thick cock and knot filling him up, hips snapping hard against Jared’s ass. He would have stayed like that forever if he could. 

But he awoke late at night alone in the trailer, the lingering scent of the Alpha hours old. And he knew, because no Alpha would leave their mate alone that soon after, that his time was up with the man. 

There was a note on top of his clothes. A flimsy excuse and a phone number in case of emergencies. Meaning if Jared was knocked up. A bitter laugh escaped his throat. Right. His name wasn’t on the note. Jensen had called him by pet names the entire time they were together. He didn’t think the Alpha actually remembered his name. It hurt more than it should have. 

He got dressed and left, stopping once on the way to pull over and scream out the pain. He didn’t think it would hurt that much when it was over, but it was like something in him had been torn out. 

The next time Jared was knotted, he was paid with one food voucher per guard he serviced. 

** ~~~ **

_**February 6, 2009**_

Jared was curled up on Milo’s bed. After he left Jensen’s trailer he didn’t feel up to facing his parents yet. He had gone to Milo’s apartment. The omega lived close to campus, in a small one-bedroom in a complex reserved for omega tenants. 

He heard the door slam and then footsteps in the small hallway before Milo reappeared in the bedroom. “Here, ya big baby.” He dropped a pharmacy bag on the bed next to Jared. “You shoulda seen the look on the pharmacist’s face. Ten different kinds of scandalized.” 

Jared picked up the bag and opened it to take out the small box inside. It was pink, like most products designated with the little omega symbol, and it annoyed him. Small script under the product name proclaimed that it worked up to three days after knotting. Jared was on day three. So that was something, at least. 

“Seriously, they make it illegal for us to breed and then look at us like we’re the devil if we buy the goddamned after-knot pill. I don’t know what they want from us.” Milo set a bottle of water down on the bedside table as Jared opened the package, pulling out a blister pack with two tiny white pills. 

“Thanks, Milo.” Jared’s voice was quiet as he interrupted his friend’s rant, and it seemed to take the other omega by surprise. 

“No worries. Not like it’s the first time.” Milo flopped down on the bed. “I’m tellin’ ya, they were judging me hard at the pharmacy _long_ before this.” 

“Have you heard from Steve?” Jared asked before tossing the pills back and chasing them with a quick drink of the water. 

Milo was quiet, and Jared knew the answer. He curled in close to his friend, resting his head on his chest. It felt nice after the exhausting past few days to be in casual contact with pack, and he could feel Milo starting to calm as well. Contact was important to omegas, and the strict penalties for contact that went too far made it rare for them get to just touch another person. 

“Does it ever stop hurting?” Jared burrowed deeper into Milo’s jacket as the other omega trailed his hands through his hair. 

“No.” Milo’s answer was quick and clean. He sighed. “It’s like…it’s like heartbreak, you know? It never really goes away or stops hurting. But one day you kinda just wake up and it’s not the most important thing anymore.” 

Jared closed his eyes. He hoped his friend was right, because at that moment it hurt like a bitch. 

Milo was quiet for a minute before he spoke again, the timbre of his voice humming in his chest under Jared’s ear. “Was he nice to you?” 

Jared thought about it. “He was rough.” 

“They always are.” Milo smiled. 

“But yeah…he was nice to me.” 

“Well, that’s something.” Milo hugged him and then pulled away. “Man, you need a shower though. You smell like Alpha.” 

Jared scoffed. “Shut up.” 

“Seriously, though, you reek.” Milo wrinkled his nose as though Jared smelled offensive and Jared laughed. 

“Thanks, Milo.” 

** ~~~ **

_**January 27, 2015**_

Before the interview with Andrew began, Jared insisted on going to get the pup lunch. To his horror, Jensen stood as if to go along. He thought about fighting it, but he was low on the energy required to. The day had been draining, physically and emotionally. 

When they got to the mess hall, Jared handed over one of the precious meal vouchers and took the tray that the beta behind the counter handed him before steering Andrew to a table that was mostly empty. A single omega was sitting at the far end with her head down, blonde curls spilling on to the table. Jared made it a point not to look at her, snapped his fingers to get Andrew’s attention as the pup surveyed her, and shook his head. The pup looked like he had been shamed, and his eyes dropped to the table in front of him. 

Jensen couldn’t figure out what was going on. He leaned in, his words faltering for a moment as Jared leaned back quickly, trying to maintain the distance even with the table between them. When he found his voice again, he jerked his head towards the omega at the end of the table. “What’s with her?” 

Jared’s eyes met his, the dark hazel haunted. He cleared his throat, his gaze going to Andrew as he opened his mouth. 

“She’s dead.” It was the pup who answered Jensen, and his tone suggested that this was nothing new. It felt as though Jensen’s veins were suddenly filled with ice. 

“We’re going to have lunch by a body?” Jensen’s throat felt tight, his stomach lurching. 

Jared looked surprised. “Is your sense of smell broken or something?” He shook his head. “This whole place reeks of death. They’re everywhere. The pyre is behind the factory, about a hundred yards that way.” He pointed out the main door. 

“How can you be so casual about this?” 

“We get by any way we can. _Your kind_ put us here.” Jared glared at him. “Now let the poor things rest in peace. At least they’re finally free.” 

They didn’t talk about the dead in the camp. The idea was that the living and suffering needed consideration more than those past help, but there was also a sick sort of jealousy that tinged the pain when the omegas thought of those gone. 

Jared handed Andrew the sandwich that was on the tray after careful inspection—the food was never fresh, and it was often unsafe—and then held out the apple to Jensen. “Don’t eat that. Put it in your bag.” 

Jensen obeyed, taken by surprise by how serious the command was. After he had tucked away the apple, there was nothing left on the tray. “That’s all they give you for lunch?” 

Jared narrowed his eyes at the Alpha. “Yes. And it’s costly.” 

The Alpha and the omega stared at each other for a moment before suddenly Jared’s eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring. The next thing Jensen knew, Jared had grabbed Andrew and hauled him to the ground. The next second a shot rang out. Jensen had never heard real gunfire before, and it felt like it reverberated in his bones, louder than he had ever imagined. He realized that Jared had scented a sudden surge of aggression in the air. To Jensen, an Alpha, it was faint, hardly a cause for alarm. 

There was a loud, howling scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor. A millisecond later, a snarl ripped through the air and a feral-looking omega went racing at one of the guards, seemingly from nowhere. He didn’t make it within ten meters before a second shot rang out and he fell. Jensen could see a pool of blood start to blossom out from the body, seeping across the dingy wooden floor. 

“Stay down!” The command was chillingly calm, but Jensen could smell the scent in the air get sharper. A few of the omegas let out low whimpers, as though they were in pain. The guard who had issued the command pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and held it to his mouth. “Locking down the mess hall.” A chirp answered and he clipped it back in place. His eyes fell on Jared. The Alpha was the only one still upright. “Your handler with you?” 

Jensen shook his head. “Back in the barracks.” 

“You got a camera in here?” The question was voiced in a sharp bark. 

Jensen shook his head again. 

The guard swung his gun in Jensen’s direction, leveling his aim at his head. The Alpha’s pulse kicked up, fear like he had never known seeping through his body. “Then I suggest you get your ass on the ground, boy.” 

Jensen moved quickly but cautiously, careful to keep his hands visible as he got out of the chair and lowered himself to the ground, pressing flat on his stomach. Everything in him rebelled against the cowering motion, his instincts screaming at him to get up and fight. But he could still see the crumpled body of the male omega on the floor a few tables away, warm blood forming a pool around him. 

His eyes flickered to Jared, and the calm resignation he saw on the omega’s face as he covered his pup’s body with his own terrified him even more than the events that had just transpired. 

** ~~~ **

By the time the lockdown ended and Jensen returned to the barracks, Chad and Eric looked like they were experiencing heart failure. Jensen explained what happened and Chad immediately launched into one of his trademarked rants about the camps, continuing on for a moment before Eric managed to quiet him down, thankfully right before their handler entered the room to escort them back to their van. They’d be heading to a hotel for the night and returning the next day to continue interviews. 

“Would’ve liked to get more with the pup,” Eric said once they were in the van. “The preliminary was great, but I think some more footage of him will really hit home.” 

“Thought there’d be more pups there, you know?” Chad furrowed his brow. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” 

“They’re starving. I bet the pups aren’t living long past nursing age,” the cameraman—Jensen never could remember his name—said. “It’s a wonder Andrew’s made it that long.” 

“I don’t get it.” Jensen sat up straight. “Why do they keep breeding if it’s gonna land them here?” 

Chad snorted in disbelief. “It’s not like they’re reproducing on their own, man.” 

“But there’s emergency contraception. The after-knot pill.” 

“Well, yeah.” Chad nodded. “There’ve been problems with it, though. First, the omega version isn’t as effective as the beta version. Their bodies just don’t wanna give up carrying that easy. And then about six years ago there was this massive recall. A whole long list of lot numbers were found to be contaminated and ineffective.” 

Jensen turned that information over in his head. He hadn’t had any idea that any such recall had taken place. But that would’ve been 2009, and the only omega that he had been with that year had never called. So he guessed he had dodged a bullet there. 

Panic raced through him when he remembered losing his phone about a month after hooking up with that one omega. He had just replaced it, and he had wound up with a new number when he took the opportunity to switch his contract. 

** ~~~ **

_**March 28, 2009**_

Jared lay curled on the floor of the upstairs bathroom in his parent’s house. He had been violently sick for the past week, the nausea coming in waves. It had been an hour since he last threw up, but he still felt safer on the cool tile, close to the toilet. 

Whatever sort of bug this was, he seemed to be having trouble shaking it. He wished it would just be over. He had missed two days of classes already. 

His phone rang. He had been talking to one of his professors about making up that day’s work when the nausea hit that morning, and the phone had still been in his hand when he fell to his knees in front of the toilet, although he had luckily managed to politely end the call before the retching started. 

He hit the talk button. “Hello?” 

“Whoa, man. You sound like death.” Milo’s voice sounded genuinely concerned. 

“Still sick.” Jared let out a low whimper and curled further in on himself. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, yeah. Okay so you know how they scan that little card thing at stores and you get points or whatever and no one knows how they work but they go ahead and scan them anyway just in case they someday come in handy for something?” 

Jared tilted his head, seeking out a cool spot on the tile. “Yeah.” 

“Well, the one at the pharmacy is kinda neat, cause it tracks what you buy and if there’s a recall or an issue, it sends you an email.” Despite the super-cool feature that Milo had discovered, he didn’t sound pleased. 

“Milo, man, I love you but _please_ get to the point.” 

There was a pause. Then Milo’s voice, quiet and full of pity, delivered the news that would bring Jared’s world crashing down. “A ton of after-knot pills were recalled. They don’t work. And the ones I got you were in the included lots.” 

Jared lurched up and grabbed the toilet, vomiting once more. This time it had nothing to do with what he now knew was morning sickness. 

** ~~~ **

**_January 28, 2015_**

The crew didn’t go to the camp the next day, after all. Chad decided that they needed to regroup, taking into consideration the brutal show of violence in the mess hall the day before. Jensen was glad. He was still sick to his stomach from the thought of the camp, the dead omegas, the resigned look in Jared’s eyes, the faulty pills and the omega that he had never heard from again, had assumed was alright. 

He joined the rest of the crew at the continental breakfast and loaded his plate up with eggs, bacon, and pancakes with thick warm syrup. But the food felt wrong in his mouth and he couldn’t make himself swallow. 

He threw the plate away and went back up to the suite to shower and change. When he shifted his bags to find a change of clothes, something fell out and hit the ground with a thud before rolling toward him. 

It was the apple that Jared had given him to smuggle out of the mess hall. He had forgotten to give it back before the omega and pup went to their barracks after the lockdown. 

Jared had been saving it. “It’s costly,” he had said. 

Jensen thought of the plate of food he had thrown away, his stomach sinking. The sandwich was all that the pup had eaten that day, the lockdown lasting until just before lights out in the camp, and Jared hadn’t eaten anything. Jensen had just thrown away more food without thinking about it than they had probably eaten in a week. 

He went back out into the common area of the suite, eyes scanning every surface in sight until he spotted the permits and documents, the van keys sitting on top of them.


	4. Part Four

**_January 28, 2015_ **

Jensen pulled up at the gates of IL-01 and waited for them to open before driving through. He gave the permits to the Alpha who came to the van window after he parked, and waited as he read them over. 

“Got a call that you guys weren’t coming today.” The guard looked through the back windows. “Just you?” 

“I had an idea for some interior shots to use for bumps. The school and stuff like that. Show that everything here is on the up and up, if you know what I mean.” Jensen kept his face impassive, trusting that the guard wouldn’t know whether he was crew or not. There was a tense pause and then the guard handed him the permits back and radioed to the control room to open the interior wall. Jensen gathered up his bag and headed into the camp, his nerves on edge. He was painfully aware that he was alone this time, that if anything like what happened in the mess hall the day before went down and he was injured, none of the crew would know for awhile. 

Still, he kept his demeanor confident as he strode towards the square, his gaze raking over the mass of omegas and guards moving about, heading for the school, the factory, or the mess hall. He found Andrew, talking to a female omega with long, dark hair and large eyes. As he watched, the omega hugged Andrew and then watched him disappear into the school before crossing the courtyard herself, heading for the laundry facilities. He followed her, catching up to her just outside of the door. 

“Hey.” He caught her by the arm and she spun, jerking away, the fear in her scent increasing as she scented Jensen. “Whoa, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you. That pup you were with—” 

“Andrew.” The omega’s eyes were narrowed distrustfully as she gazed up at Jensen, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. Jensen could see the string of numbers tattooed on her shoulder where a mating mark should be, would be in a different life. 

“I’m looking for his omega.” Jensen said, ripping his eyes away from the tattoos. “I’m—” 

The omega laughed humorlessly. “I know who you are.” She eyed him suspiciously, the anger in her scent surprising Jensen. “What do you want with Jared?” 

“I’m interviewing him. For a documentary.” Jensen took a step back despite himself as he saw the short woman bristle with rage. “I just need to talk to him.” 

“ _Now_ you want to talk to him?” She sneered at him. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” 

“What are you even—” Jensen sighed. “Look, do you know where he is, or not?” 

She looked like she was trying to make up her mind about something. Finally, she answered him, her voice tight, more aggression lacing the words than Jensen had ever thought capable of an omega. “He’s in the barracks. But I swear to god, if you hurt him, there aren’t enough guards in this place to stop me from ripping you apart. I’ve had it with Alphas like you.” 

She turned on her heel and stormed into the laundry building, leaving Jensen in stunned silence. 

He tried to shake it off as he headed for the barracks. 

He was nowhere near prepared for what he saw when he got there. 

Jared was on his elbows and knees on his bunk, head resting on his arms as an Alpha guard fucked him ruthlessly. 

** ~~~ **

Jared’s last heat had been the one during which Andrew was conceived. Starvation and the stress of his body just hanging on to life for the past five and a half years had rendered those parts of his body broken and ill-functioning. He didn’t even get slick anymore. 

It didn’t matter to the guard as he pushed roughly into Jared, sending burning pain through every inch of the omega’s body. Jared bit down on his own arm, nearly drawing blood as he tried to stifle the scream welling up in him. The guard responded with a thick wave of scent, fogging Jared’s mind and making him go completely pliant beneath him. It was a small blessing, letting Jared’s thoughts float into nothing as his body was brutally used. 

He whimpered despite the scent when the guard roughly knotted him, too fast and too hard, fucking into Jared ruthlessly as he shot his seed deep into his abused body. And no amount of fog was enough to dull the pain or the panic when, only minutes later, the guard pulled his barely-deflated knot roughly from Jared’s body, tearing his rim. Jared let out a pained cry as he felt blood and semen trickle down his thigh. He fell to his side, curling in on himself as tears started to trail over his cheeks, sobs wracking his body. 

He felt a piece of paper land on him. Knew it was the agreed-upon meal voucher. Shame burned through him. But he would do whatever it took to keep Andrew alive. Absolutely anything. 

He waited until he heard the guard’s footsteps disappear, the door to the barracks swinging open and shut again before he pulled himself up, gritting his teeth against another sharp surge of pain with the movement. He carefully pulled his pants on. The blood would start to soak through the thin fabric quickly, and he’d have to tell Gen what happened, have to get her to smuggle him a clean pair, maybe an extra pair before the bleeding stopped. Gen always looked so sad when this happened, and he knew that she was thinking about her first night in the camp. He hated reminding her. 

He jumped when he heard footsteps, sure that the guard was back. It wasn’t part of the deal, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen that a guard would come back for more. 

It wasn’t the guard. It was Jensen. The Alpha was staring at him, anger and disgust etched in every line of his face. 

** ~~~ **

Jared and Jensen eyed each other, their postures and scents making it clear to each other what they were thinking. They both knew there was a blowout on the horizon, but neither of them was really sure _why_. Jared had reached his breaking point with Jensen’s attitude regarding him and the other omegas at the camp, and Jensen was angry about the way Jared had just gone ass-up for a guard, although, admittedly, Jensen wasn’t sure why that bothered him, either. But it ate at him, the scent of the guard’s arousal hanging thick in the air. 

“That’s your currency in here?” Jensen scoffed. “You really are just a bunch of sluts, aren’t you?” He scented the air and let out a bitter laugh. “Weren’t even wet and you still got right on your hands and knees for him, didn’t you?” 

“I don’t have to explain myself to _you_. I do what I need to to keep Andrew alive, and that’s all you or anyone else needs to know.” The omega’s eyes were sharp, angry. 

“You mean the pup you weren’t even supposed to have?” Jensen wasn’t sure what was bothering him so much about what he had seen, but something was clawing at his chest, tearing at his hindbrain in response to it, driving the ugly words from his mouth. “Christ, if all of this doesn’t do it, what’s it gonna take to put you bitches in your place?” 

“You already put me in my place! You put me here!” Jared shouted. 

“Oh yeah, right, because it’s every fucking Alpha in the world’s fault that you went ass-up in heat and got your ass bred!” 

“No, it’s _your_ fault! _Yours_ specifically!” Jared looked like he might haul off and punch Jensen in the face, but his words did the job first. “God, Jensen, I called you over and over again. I left _hundreds_ of voicemails. I _begged_ you for help. You never called back, never picked up the goddamned phone. Not _once_! So yeah, I do what I have to do to keep my son— _your_ son—alive but don’t you ever look down your arrogant nose at me for it because _you didn’t bother to pick up the fucking phone!_ ” 

“I…” Jared’s words ran through Jensen’s head as he searched for a reply. Jared had called. Andrew’s Alpha hadn’t claimed him. The omega in 2009. The lost and replaced phone, the changed number. The pup lifting his thin fingers. He was five. _Jared had called him and he hadn’t picked up the phone._ “You’re saying that I’m…” 

Jared looked suddenly tired, dropping to his bunk and hanging his head. “God, Jensen. I know you didn’t even remember my name past the first five minutes but I can’t believe you haven’t recognized your own scent in Andrew.” 

The familiar scent on the pup. The one that had first caught Jensen’s attention when Jared and Andrew had been standing in front of the school. 

Jared was the omega from 2009. 

Andrew was his. 

Jensen felt like he was going to be sick. 

** ~~~ **

**_February 3, 2009_**

Jensen opened the door to his trailer, jerking his head at the omega. “Get inside.” 

Jared was barely in the small room before Jensen was on him, his instincts taking over as he pulled at the omega’s clothes, tearing them off of him with Jared’s help, both of them needing to feel the contact of bare skin. A low growl escaped his throat as he smelled the rush of slick seeping from the omega once he had gotten rid of his jeans and boxers. He had smelled slick before; it was an unfortunate consequence of having an omega co-star, but it had never been this heavy, this sweet and appealing. He guided the omega to the floor, pushing between his shoulder blades to make him lower his chest to the floor, ass in the air. 

“Gonna take you nice and slow later, make you come on my knot until you can’t remember your own name. But first I’m gonna fuck you hard, fill you up and knot you tight.” His words were growled out as the omega’s scent thickened in response, the younger man’s hips thrusting back, slick caking the fluttering rim. Jensen shoved his own pants down, not having the patience to strip completely, and lined his cock up before pushing in slow and steady, groaning loudly as the tight, wet heat surrounded him, pulling him in. The omega’s body was made for this, and nothing that Jensen had ever experienced before had been quite as mind-blowing as sinking into the fluttering, slick channel. 

He gripped the omega’s hips hard, praise and filth falling from his lips as he became lost in the sensations. The omega was crying out under him, pushing back as Jensen worked his swelling knot past the rim, thrusting shallowly until it caught and a sound that was nearly a roar ripped itself from his throat as his hindbrain screamed to knot the bitch, fill him up, breed him full with his pup. It was heated and primal and _fuck so fucking good_. 

He came so hard that he nearly blacked out as the omega writhed and cried out, Jensen’s knot rubbing against his prostate and making him come over and over as Jensen filled him up with his seed. They lay there tied, shuddering as Jensen released wave after wave into the omega in response to the younger man’s continuing climax. 

Jensen was hard again before they even untied, and he rolled them over to let the omega grind down on his cock, watching as the beautiful creature came apart again and again. 

** ~~~ **

**_January 29, 2015_**

Jensen had spent two hours on the phone in the morning with his cell provider before anyone was able to figure out a way to access his old number and voicemails. The number hadn’t been reassigned, by some miracle, so everything attached to the account remained intact. He could log in to the old account on his laptop and go through the voicemails. 

His heart dropped when he saw that he had two hundred and sixty-four of them. 

He stared at the screen for a long time, at the number that appeared over and over again until July, when a new number started appearing. The new number had an Illinois area code. 

He went all the way to the beginning and braced himself before he pressed play. 

_”Jensen… I guess it’s probably okay for me to just call you Jensen… I uh… I really need you to call me. It’s important. Okay. Sorry.”_

“Shit. My number’s 401-555-6738.” 

“Hey Jensen. I know you said to only call in case of emergency, so just wanted to let you know, it’s…yeah. It’s an emergency.” 

The messages changed after that. 

Jared’s voice, wavering and wrecked. _”I don’t know what to do. I took the stupid pill and it didn’t work and I’m carrying and I’m scared and I know I’m just an annoyance but I just… God…”_

Jared, angry. _”You know, I know you’re super-busy being all important and in-demand but if you could take one goddamned second to man up, that would be great.”_

Jared, barely intelligible through sobs. _“Went to the c-clinic…th-they said they c-couldn’t do anything w-w-without an Alpha’s p-permission.”_ A long pause, so long that Jensen almost went on to the next message. Then Jared’s voice, small and broken. _“I’m so scared…”_

Jared, quiet. _“I don’t expect you to care about me. I really don’t. But the pup is yours; it’s pack. Please, Jensen. They’re going to find out soon. It doesn’t deserve this.”_

Jared, scared. _“I can’t hide it much longer. I’ve already missed one heat, and the next one’s due soon. It’s starting to show. They’re going to find out. Please, Jensen.”_

Over and over again, like Jared had said, he begged Jensen to claim Andrew. Over and over in the voicemail of an abandoned number, Jared raged and cried and pleaded. 

The last call from that number featured Jared, his voice deadened, resigned. _“They found out. They’re taking me to a camp tomorrow. Not here. Ill-one.”_

The calls from the Illinois number were less extreme, more vague. Knowing what he knew about the camp now, Jensen was sure that Jared’s calls were being monitored. 

The last one. Jared sounded completely broken as his voice filtered through the computer speakers. 

_“His name is Andrew.”_

** ~~~ **

Jensen was pacing; he did that when he was anxious. The call connected, the ringing over the line signaling that he was about to have to have a conversation that he never would have dreamed of having. 

“Hello?” Danneel’s voice answered. 

Jensen swallowed hard. “Hey. How’s everything going at home? How’s Emily?” He felt guilty. He had only really thought about his mate and pup once since arriving at the camp. Jared and Andrew had turned his world upside down. 

“Not bad. We miss you a lot.” He could hear the smile in the beta’s voice. “How’s it going there?” 

Jensen sat down, sighing. “You should see it, baby. Or, no, I hope to god you never see it. It’s awful. I had no idea.” Danneel had tried to warn him of what he might find there, but like he had with Chad, Jensen had ignored her, preferring to believe the claims of the government that all was well and above-board in the camps. “Listen, I have to tell you something…” 

In the end, Danneel was relatively understanding. She wasn’t wild about the idea of another pup—a pup that wasn’t hers. But Jensen had bred Jared a full year before she and Jensen had met, and whether Andrew was _hers_ or not, he was her mate’s, and that made him pack. 

Jensen knew how lucky he was to have such an understanding mate when he hung up, but it still didn’t seem like enough. 

Jared was still going to be left behind. 

** ~~~ **

**_January 30, 2015_**

Jared curled his body around Andrew as he slept. Jensen had been to see him that morning. He was going to claim Andrew, was going to take him from the camp when the documentary was done and the crew left for good. 

“I don’t know how to get you out.” The apology hadn’t been spoken, but it was clear nonetheless. “Even if I had claimed you, they still would’ve taken you from me when you were carrying.” 

Jared had nodded, his eyes on Andrew as he played with Gen on the other side of the square. He was only half listening to the Alpha, the reality seeping in that he had less than four days left with his son. 

“Hey.” Jensen’s voice was firm, drew his attention to the Alpha. “This documentary… Chad’s going to use it to change things; get the camps liberated. We’re going to get you out. You’ll see him again.” 

Jared nodded, but even as he did so he knew it wouldn’t happen. The institution had been in place for twenty years. It had been too long. 

_“They’re killing us… We’re dead.”_

He turned his attention back to his pup, started work on steeling his heart to let him go. 

On February 3, 2015, exactly six years after Jensen had bred Jared, the Alpha was going to leave the camp with their pup.


	5. Part Five

**_April 22, 2015_ **

It had been nearly two months since Jensen took Andrew from Illinois One, leaving a broken omega behind with nothing more than a promise that the Alpha wasn’t sure he and the rest of the crew could keep and a request to wait just a little while longer. 

Andrew was doing better, growing stronger every day. His eyes were no longer sunken, his hair and skin no longer dry and brittle. The jaundice in his eyes was clearing up, his liver healing along with the rest of his body. Some of the damage would never be repairable, the haunted look in his eyes would probably never quite leave. But the pup was no longer at death’s door, no longer hollowed out and barely held together at the seams as he struggled for just one more day. 

He asked about Jared a lot. Jensen didn’t know what to tell him. They were waiting, waiting as Chad pieced together the documentary and promised them that something big was in the works, just wait another minute, just a few days more. 

Jensen didn’t think they had many more days. 

It was late in the evening when his phone rang. At the same time, the television screen flickered. He and Danneel had been watching the evening news, Emily already down for the night and Andrew in the bath. He hit the button to answer the call, bringing the receiver to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Jensen.” Chad’s voice was soft, calm. “I know this is short notice, but I didn’t want to freak you out for nothing in case it didn’t work out the way I wanted… You need to grab Danneel and the pups and go.” 

“What?” Jensen was sure he must have heard wrong. Beside him Danneel gasped. Jensen’s eyes flickered to the television screen as the signal cut in and out, finally settling on the footage of Andrew from back in IL-01, head resting on his knee, starved body curling in on itself. “Can you tell us your name and age?” Jensen’s voice filtered in from off-screen. 

“Yeah. It’s on every channel in the country.” There was the sound of a smile in Chad’s voice. “I didn’t think I’d manage it, honestly, or I would’ve given you more notice. Grab your pack and get underground, man.” 

Jensen’s mind was spinning as he jumped up, grabbing his keys. Relief washed over him as Andrew came down the stairs, out of the bath and dressed. “Danneel, grab Emily. We have to go, now.” 

“Yeah, they’ll probably be looking for us.” Chad’s voice filtered through the line. “They’re probably on the way here now. But I think I’ll be able to keep control of the signal long enough to play the whole thing before…” The beta trailed off. 

Jensen’s throat swelled as he reached the same conclusion that he knew Chad had. “I’m sorry, man.” He didn’t know what else to say. What else did you say in this situation? 

The beta chuckled. “It’s gonna be so worth it.” 

Danneel reappeared, clutching a sleeping pup to her, and as a family they piled into the car and drove off, not sure where they were going, but determined to put as much distance between them and any of their normal frequented locations as possible. 

They ended up driving, pulling over only to get gas and food, sleeping in the car on back roads for the next three weeks. Jensen wasn’t sure he slept at all, his ears constantly strained for the sound of any other approaching car, instincts on high-alert and his hindbrain constantly raging. 

The radio droned constantly; official statements from the Pack Council, general outcry from other public figures who weren’t buying it with the visceral footage, screams for change, and reports of final ‘clean-up’ efforts in the camps. The United Council of Pack issued a declaration of official intent of involvement. 

Andrew asked about Jared constantly. Jensen had no idea what to say when he did. 

** ~~~ **

After Chad hung up, he went back to work on the documentary feed. Every monitor he owned was circled around him, occupying every surface in the room. Each monitor was tuned to a different channel, but each one showed the same footage. 

He worked, his eyes flitting every now and then to the ticker in the bottom corner of his screen. He needed to maintain the monopoly on programming for an hour. Just one hour. 

There was no way that they weren’t coming for him. 

He eyed the ticker, counting down the time. Forty-six minutes of the documentary had shown. 

** ~~~ **

The camera frame shook. Gen opened her mouth, closed it. She seemed to be at a loss for words. Jensen’s voice came from off-camera. “Do you blame the country for what’s happened to you?” 

“The council…yeah.” Gen’s eyes were distant. “But the people…pack in general…no. I don’t think that they would let this happen if they knew.” 

Chad’s voice, the one time it appeared on film. “And now that they all know? Now that they can’t ignore it?” 

Gen’s eyes snapped to the camera, suddenly alive. “Get us out of here. Please. We can’t make it much longer like this. Make this right. Don’t stand for it.” 

** ~~~ **

The timer read 58:47. The credits started to roll. Chad sat back in his chair, letting out a long breath as he heard the front door of his house finally give way. The loud, banging assault on the door had been going on for the last ten minutes, but everything that Chad owned was either pressed against it or the back door and windows. It had bought him the time he needed. 

He heard the heavy footsteps, boots on the stairs and then thundering through the upstairs hall to his office door. He smiled. 

A shot rang out. 

** ~~~ **

The night that the documentary aired, there had been a burning. It had been what had ultimately either doomed or saved every omega in IL-01. The thick smoke pouring off of the pyre covered the initial swell of aggression and rage, and the guards came pouring out of every building before the omegas could smell them. The guards opened fire, bodies dropping left and right, and Jared reached out for Andrew on instinct, his hand finding Gen’s arm instead, and he ran. 

He didn’t know where he found the energy; without the constant driving need to function for his pup, his health had declined even further since Jensen had taken Andrew. He had been barely moving through the days, wasting away visibly before Gen’s eyes as she split her meager share of food with him, coaxed him to eat, nudged him along, did her best to shield him from the view of the guards. But now, with the smell of both old and new death heavy in the air, the hot rage of Alphas on his heels, Jared fled, pulling Gen along. 

If they hadn’t been at the burning, if they hadn’t gone to pay their last respects, if they hadn’t been behind the factory already, they never would have made it. Hundreds of omega fled into the trees of the woods that surrounded the barracks in a thick, wide wave. The guards gave chase, sick enjoyment tinging their scents. The inner and outer walls both ran around the entire perimeter; the omegas were trapped. This was just adding sport. 

Jared dodged and ducked, weaving through the trees, using the sharp scent of pursuit to dictate his movements as Gen stumbled along behind him, her feet working desperately to keep up with the other omega’s long strides rather than getting dragged along. 

It was impossible; they couldn’t get away. Just as Jared was scenting the Alphas to evade, the Alphas were scenting them to capture. Loud growls erupted, agonized screams answering as bodies hit the ground with the feral tearing of teeth in flesh. The guards weren’t even shooting anymore. 

_“They’re killing us… We’re dead.”_

It was hopeless. They were laying a scent trail everywhere they went. The Alphas were stronger, healthier. They were going to catch up. They were going to— 

It was sheer dumb luck that saved them. Jared took a sharp right, an Alpha sailing past the spot he had been in just moments before with a feral roar; he pulled Gen away, overbalanced, and thrust her ahead of him. 

She disappeared from sight. Her scent disappeared. All he had to judge where she had gone was a loud splash. 

Jared didn’t think twice, he leapt and plunged into the lake with her. 

They stayed in the water as long as they could, surfacing as quietly as possible to draw deep breaths before submerging once more, arms wrapped around each other to keep themselves below the surface as long as possible. It probably wasn’t long, all told. Probably only a half hour. And by the end of it, by the time the growls and screams grew more distant, the guards moving on to more ready prey, their lungs were screaming for air as they hoisted themselves up on the edge of the lake as quietly as possible. 

They spent the next three weeks as close to the wall as possible, as far from the main camp as they could. They smeared themselves in mud to cover their scents, Jared curling his body around Gen as he would have Andrew any time they scented an Alpha on the hunt, his hand clapped tight over her mouth as she whimpered and his eyes screwed shut. 

They barely slept. There wasn’t much to forage for food. By the third week Jared was sure that, after everything that they had endured, they were finally going to die. It was finally the end. 

** ~~~ **

**_May 9, 2015_**

Jared and Gen woke up early in the morning to a loud chopping sound, making them both bolt upright in terror. It took Jared awhile to place the sound—he hadn’t heard anything like it in six years. Airspace over the camps was off-limits. But as he looked up, he realized what it was. 

A helicopter hovered over the camp, circling lower and lower. Fear gripped his chest. If the Alphas had brought out heavy military vehicles, they were screwed. 

Gen gave a loud sob, half relief, half disbelief, and Jared spotted it a second later—the dignified outline of a howling wolf and the letters UCP emblazoned on the side. As they watched in disbelief, two more helicopters followed the first, touching down in the farther corners of the camp. The loud rumble of heavy equipment filtered to their ears from the main entrance to the camp. 

The United Council of Pack had arrived. 

The camp was being liberated. 

** ~~~ **

**_May 10, 2015_**

Jensen scanned the frighteningly short list posted in the lobby of University of Chicago Medical Center. In the three camps in Illinois, only a little over six thousand omegas had been recovered alive from the camps. They were scattered throughout sixty hospitals in the state, and phone lines were jammed up for days as pack tried to find omegas that had been surrendered to the government. 

Jensen didn’t have that kind of patience. This was the thirty-second hospital that he had been to. Daneel and Emily had gone home, but Andrew was by his side the entire time. Each time Jared’s name wasn’t on a list, a little bit more hope seemed to disappear from the pup. 

Jensen was trying not to seem like the same was happening to him, but it was. 

His heart stopped when he got to the bottom of the list. He grabbed Andrew’s hand, and he ran. He used every bit of his scent and his naturally commanding demeanor as an Alpha to force their way through the grieving and celebrating crowds, holding tight to the pup’s hand as he fought their way deeper into the hospital. 

The elevators were out of the question. The crowds waiting on them would have easily filled them twenty times over. He paused long enough to pick Andrew up, and then he was bursting through the door to the stairwell, taking the steep stairs two at a time up to the fifth floor. 

He burst into the hallway, glancing around at the closest room numbers, trying to orient himself. He turned right, headed down to the other end of the hall, and burst through a door without pausing. 

The world froze for a moment and then everything sped up again when Andrew started fighting in Jensen’s arms, running to the closest bed as soon as his feet were on the floor. 

Jared looked like hell—he had been to hell, after all, so it fit. But he sat up, his arms out as Andrew ran into them, scrambling up onto the bed and burying his face in Jared’s neck. 

Jared broke down. It was the first time that Jensen had seen the omega cry, no matter what had happened in the camp. Jared looked sicker than ever, half a breath from death, and that fact was highlighted by the improved health of his pup as he cried into his hair. 

After a few minutes Jared finally looked up, spotted Jensen standing awkwardly by the door. 

“Thank you.” 

  
**The End.**  
_I hope you enjoyed it. :)_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story now has a sequel!
> 
> [ **What's Left of Us** ](http://girlgotagun.livejournal.com/38526.html)   
>  _Part II of the "Hollowed" 'verse._   
> 


	6. Sequel Now on AO3

  
[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=11jloae)  


Hey guys! I'm happy to announce that the sequel to this story is now being cross-posted here on AO3! 

[**Click here to read!**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3989743/chapters/8957854)


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